


Out of the Fire

by BrokenWings0712



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking to Cope, Drug Use, Episode: s05e04 The End, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenWings0712/pseuds/BrokenWings0712
Summary: Set in the End!Verse.News reaches camp of Sam saying yes to Lucifer, and Castiel attempts to pull Dean back from the ledge.Destiel if you squint.





	Out of the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> There are brief mentions of suicidal ideations. Please don't read of you are easily triggered.

A knock sounded on the door of Dean's cabin, pulling him out of his thoughts. His bleary eyes drifted to the old wooden door as he prayed for whoever was on the other side to leave. He just needed some time, just a little time to himself to get past the realization that his brother gave in. His Sammy let in the devil himself, and Dean couldn't stop it.

The knocking continued, louder this time, more insistent. He knew if he answered they'd give him some reason why they needed him, so he chose to remain quiet and continue to pray.

"Dean." Dammit Cas. Another knock. "Dean, open the door."

Dean sat up and glared in the direction of the ex-angel's voice. Grace or not, he still had zero respect for privacy. 

Outside, Castiel leaned against the door and sighed. After the news reached camp, Dean disappeared into his cabin without a word. That was three days ago, and while most believed the story Castiel had been spreading about Dean leaving early for a mission, there were some starting to express doubt in their leader, so he'd come to try and piece together what was left of Dean Winchester. 

"Dean," he tried again, "let me in." No answer. Bribery it is, then. "I brought," Castiel squinted at the bottle in his hand, "uh, Jack Daniels?"

Suddenly the surface behind him disappeared, and Castiel was falling backwards. A tan hand shot out and grasped the collar of his shirt before he could go too far, and he was able to gain his bearings once more. "Thank you," Castiel said, straightening his clothing. 

Dean swiped the bottle from Cas's hand and twisted the cap. "What do you want?" he asked, voice rough with emotion. He took a long pull from the bottle, dark eyes never leaving the ex-angel's face.

"I heard you," Castiel said simply. 

Dean scoffed and shook his head. "Shoulda known," he grumbled, a wry grin crossing his face. 

"Dean, I--"

Dean held up a hand and cut him off. "Stop, man. Just...stop. I'm not doing the sharing and caring crap today. I'm not nearly drunk enough for that." He poked his head out and quickly checked outside for anyone that may have followed Cas and waved him inside. 

Castiel took his usual spot in the corner chair and propped his feet up on the arm of the couch as Dean stretched out with his head at the other end. Dean stared hard at the dark haired (man?  
angel? Who knew what the being sitting there was anymore) for a few minutes before, finally, Castiel broke the silence. "Do you remember when I lost my grace?" he asked as he pulled a joint out of his coat pocket. 

"You say that like it didn't happen a few months ago," Dean grunted, earning a fierce glare in return. 

"That isn't the point." Castiel returned to rolling the joint between his fingers as he contemplated his words. Reaching Dean required tact. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up with the barrel of a gun pressed to his forehead. 

"Then what is the point, Rafiki?" Cas glanced at Dean and placed the joint between his teeth, waiting. Dean sighed and raised his right hip off the couch enough so that he could wedge his hand into his back pocket to grab his lighter. Sitting up and scooting down the couch, Dean reached out and held the flame to the end of the joint as Cas inhaled. Once it was lit to his satisfaction, Cas removed the joint from his mouth and exhaled slowly through his nose, the smoke trailing down his torso before dissipating in the dim light. Dean flipped the cover on the lighter and put it back in his pocket.

"The point is," Castiel explained, taking another drag, "I was ready to die, and you didn't let me. You made me get up and continue to fight."

Dean remembered it well. Cas looked so broken when he realized his grace was gone. He had always been so stoic, but the day he lost his wings the pain was etched into his expression so deeply Dean wondered if he'd have permanent wrinkles. He made up some excuse about wanting to go for a walk before leaving the room and heading towards the back fence. Dean followed Cas at a distance for hours, always watching, always keeping an eye out for anything that might put his friend in danger and being prepared to take out all threats, until finally Cas came to a stop at the edge of a large lake that was partially frozen over in the cold winter air. Cas walked right up to the edge of the ice and hung his head. Dean leaned against a tree and watched his friend's shoulders shake with sobs for a bit before approaching him cautiously. 

Dean didn't say anything at first, just stared out at the expanse before them in silence. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a sidestep in Cas's direction so that they were touching from their shoulders to their elbows. "I need you, man," Dean said quietly. Castiel looked at the man beside him who continued staring at the ice. "You're all I've got left," he went on, "and I'd be lost without you. Who else is going to yank my ass out of the fire whenever I get into some deep shit?" Dean grinned at his friend and nudged him gently with his shoulder. 

"Dean," Castiel started, "I'm not as useful to you as I once was. Without my grace I'm just..."

"Human?" Dean finished. Cas nodded grimly, another tear rolling down his cheek. "You're better than any human in that camp, Cas. In the world, even. I'll take your over anyone else anyday." He pulled a faded blue bandana from his pocket and handed it to Cas. "Wipe your face, man. Let's go home."

Dean remembered how they took their time walking back as he explained the ins and outs of being human to Cas. He even earned a few small smiles from him. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"The point is," Castiel continued, "that this is me, yanking you out of the fire." Dean continued to stare at Cas as he finished the joint and put it out on the sole of his boot before placing the stub back into his pocket. "I still need you, Dean. You couldn't control what Sam did because you weren't there, but you are here, and I'll take you broken and beat down before I trust any of those idiots out there with my life. I need you to stay."

Dean looked away as the muscle I his jaw ticked rapidly. Cas was right. Of course he was right, but still, Dean hated the idea of living in a world without Sam Winchester in it. Cas held out his hand and beckoned for the gun he knew was stuffed under the couch cushion. Dean rolled his eyes and reached under himself to grasp the handle of his trusty weapon before placing it in Cas's waiting hand. Castiel gripped the barrel firmly, blue eyes locking with green as he waited for Dean to release it. Eventually Dean let go and pushed the hand that now held his favorite side piece. 

Castiel grinned and wedged the gun under his hip before pulling yet another joint from his pocket. "I'm just going to hang onto that for a while," he said before placing the new joint between his teeth.

Dean scowled and retrieved his lighter. Once more, he held it out as Cas sucked on the joint, but this time Cas blew out the air and held it up in Dean's direction. 

"Want a puff?"


End file.
